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The joy's of the Transit Center (language, Long)
First time poster, REALLY long time lurker.
So first off, I work as a Transit Clerk at the only bus station in the city. I'm the only one here, 9 hours a day 5 days a week. It's like the 7th level of hell. Trust me when I say I've seen just about everything that there is to see at a seedy bus station...twice.
I have plenty stories for you, but this one is from a few days ago, I call it...
Wherein I get smashed upside the head with a 40oz Bud Light bottle.
So I'm sitting at my desk, behind my "safety" glass (which is just glass...with big holes in it because people can spit at me through it) when I hear yelling going on outside. Now usually when this happens its just a bunch of high school kids being jackasses and I go out there and yell my little girl ass off at them and they scatter. Not this time. It's two regulars, lets call them Homeless Jon and Drunk Bob, screaming at each other over a bike. Here is the following exchange: (it gets pretty graphic...be warned)
Homeless Jon(HJ): "You stupid asshole, get your mother fucking hands off my bi-cee-kell"
Drunk BobDB:"This aint your damn bike you faggot, I bet you're a faggot huh? I bet you'd like it if I shoved a pineapple up your ass and called you a faggot fruit salad!"
(wtf?)
Me
This is where having a big Italian family comes in handy, I can yell a hell of a lot louder than you'd think by looking at me) "YOU! BOTH OF YOU GET THE FUCK OFF THE PROPERTY! NOW!"
DB:"You don't tell me what to do you c**t, you don't even got a gun or nothin, what you gonna do if I want to kick your ass?"
Me:"You think thats a good idea Bob? You know better than that by now. Either you leave now, or the police make you leave. Thats how it works."
HJ:"Leave the girl alone, you aint suppose to touch my bike and you aint supposed to talk like that" (Jon can be an ok guy)
At this point I'm done, Drunk Bob keeps yelling and screaming at me and I've had it. I turn to go back inside and all I really remember is hitting the ground.
He threw his 40oz bottle at the back of my head like he was throwing a baseball pitch, and I went down hard. Thank god I have so many GOOD regulars who called the police again (I already had before I went out, I think I forgot to mention that) and one nice old lady came out to help me up. I was bleeding like crazy and trying really hard not to start bawling my eyes out (I can yell, doesn't mean I'm tough).
The police and EMT's arrive about 10 mins later...yeah, I know...Homeless Jon had tackled Drunk Bob after he threw the bottle at me and held him at the center until the police arrived. Bob now has a shiny new no-trespass warrant against him and is never allowed to ride a bus, oh, and is in jail unable to make bail for assault (its all on surveillance).
I needed 6 stitches in the back of my head...and a raise. No raise. But the little old lady made me cookies, and I got a new can of police grade mace.
And that was just on Tuesday.
Maybe later I'll tell you about the guy who dropped trou and pooped on the bus.
So first off, I work as a Transit Clerk at the only bus station in the city. I'm the only one here, 9 hours a day 5 days a week. It's like the 7th level of hell. Trust me when I say I've seen just about everything that there is to see at a seedy bus station...twice.
I have plenty stories for you, but this one is from a few days ago, I call it...
Wherein I get smashed upside the head with a 40oz Bud Light bottle.
So I'm sitting at my desk, behind my "safety" glass (which is just glass...with big holes in it because people can spit at me through it) when I hear yelling going on outside. Now usually when this happens its just a bunch of high school kids being jackasses and I go out there and yell my little girl ass off at them and they scatter. Not this time. It's two regulars, lets call them Homeless Jon and Drunk Bob, screaming at each other over a bike. Here is the following exchange: (it gets pretty graphic...be warned)
Homeless Jon(HJ): "You stupid asshole, get your mother fucking hands off my bi-cee-kell"
Drunk BobDB:"This aint your damn bike you faggot, I bet you're a faggot huh? I bet you'd like it if I shoved a pineapple up your ass and called you a faggot fruit salad!"
(wtf?)Me
This is where having a big Italian family comes in handy, I can yell a hell of a lot louder than you'd think by looking at me) "YOU! BOTH OF YOU GET THE FUCK OFF THE PROPERTY! NOW!"DB:"You don't tell me what to do you c**t, you don't even got a gun or nothin, what you gonna do if I want to kick your ass?"
Me:"You think thats a good idea Bob? You know better than that by now. Either you leave now, or the police make you leave. Thats how it works."
HJ:"Leave the girl alone, you aint suppose to touch my bike and you aint supposed to talk like that" (Jon can be an ok guy)
At this point I'm done, Drunk Bob keeps yelling and screaming at me and I've had it. I turn to go back inside and all I really remember is hitting the ground.
He threw his 40oz bottle at the back of my head like he was throwing a baseball pitch, and I went down hard. Thank god I have so many GOOD regulars who called the police again (I already had before I went out, I think I forgot to mention that) and one nice old lady came out to help me up. I was bleeding like crazy and trying really hard not to start bawling my eyes out (I can yell, doesn't mean I'm tough).
The police and EMT's arrive about 10 mins later...yeah, I know...Homeless Jon had tackled Drunk Bob after he threw the bottle at me and held him at the center until the police arrived. Bob now has a shiny new no-trespass warrant against him and is never allowed to ride a bus, oh, and is in jail unable to make bail for assault (its all on surveillance).
I needed 6 stitches in the back of my head...and a raise. No raise. But the little old lady made me cookies, and I got a new can of police grade mace.
And that was just on Tuesday.
Maybe later I'll tell you about the guy who dropped trou and pooped on the bus.
to the boards. That's a helluva scary intro post there . . . yowsers.
)
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